


Love Die Young

by ishouldbewritingsomethingelserightnow



Category: Nam Yoondo | Eric Nam (Musician)
Genre: ERIC IS A SCORPIO, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Love Die Young is a beautiful song, Reader Has a Pottymouth, STREAM BWB, Song fic, i made eric nam cry in this, idolverse, open-ended story, rated T for TRYING MY BEST, stan ERIC NAM U COWARDS, why are tags so hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23311558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishouldbewritingsomethingelserightnow/pseuds/ishouldbewritingsomethingelserightnow
Summary: You are Eric Nam's non-showbiz girlfriend. Well, were. Well, still are if Eric has anything to say about it. This is the story of your dying relationship. | Based on Eric's song "Love Die Young"
Relationships: nam yoondo | eric nam / reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Love Die Young

**Author's Note:**

> i found a shortage of eric nam fanfic so I'm here doing my duty (ish?) as part of the nam nation with writing one. have a couple of ideas based on some more of his songs but it really depends... on... the... response...on...this? 
> 
> minimally edited. errors are my own.

You are Eric Nam's non-showbiz girlfriend. Well, _were_. Well, still _are_ if Eric has anything to say about it. This is the story of your dying relationship. 

\---

"We need to talk," you said. See, this is how the end starts.

It's a quiet night, you were both sitting on the couch at his place. You arrived 10 minutes ago, frazzled and eyes bloodshot. He looked worried, but also tired. Always tired. 

Your eyes may have been bloodshot and exhausted but you still look at him the same way you always do, in adoration and awe. Eric, for all his faults, had always been beautiful. _Unreachable_. Magnetic. **_Vibrant_**. You were utterly _his_ the moment you saw him. It's funny, to be honest, how you both met. 

Of all places, of all the mutual friends you both had, you happened to meet at a coffee shop. It was almost anticlimactic. All the days after that though were anything but. 

\---

"Iced americano for Eric." 

You were in line to get your coffee when you saw him. Eric Nam. At a coffee shop near where you worked. _Isn't he on tour?_ You know this because you had mutual friends. You knew of him, but you didn't _know_ him, you two have never met after all. _Always just almost_ , always missing each other by a day. 

You saw him getting his coffee and going back to his seat by the window. It was then your turn to order. 

When you got your coffee, you decided to approach him. You figured, if he didn't know who you are, you can always say that you're a fan and had wanted to say hello. 

"Hello!" You said as soon as you approached him. He looked up from his laptop and you saw his eyes widen.

"Oh my God, hello! It's you! We're finally meeting!" he stood up and offered his hand. You grasped it firmly in yours and shook it. _He has pretty hands._ You wanted to roll your eyes at yourself for that stray thought. 

"Please, sit. This is so weird!" he said, energetically.

"It is, right? To be honest, I wasn't sure you knew who I was," you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Are you kidding? Amber keeps talking about you, how could I not know?" you fondly rolled your eyes at the mention of one of your mutual best friends. 

"Would you mind if we sent her a quick photo?" he asked. You shook your head and he quickly got his phone out. He lifted his hand to take a photo of you, paused, then scooted forward to lean across the table separating the two of you. 

"Let's take one together, is that okay?" You leaned forward across the table, too, in response. He snapped a couple of _selcas_ of the two of you and sent one to Amber.

Almost immediately came a reply from her. Eric laughed and showed you the message. You had to bow your head as he replied so he wouldn't see your face heat up.

**Amber: OMG?????!!!!!! A DATE???????????!!!!!!**

You didn't know what he replied until you were already dating for a few months, but when he told you his simple reply, you wanted to swoon. 

**Eric: I wish.**

\---

"What's wrong?" he asks for the sake of asking, but you know that he knows what this conversation was about. It was a long time coming, longer than your pride would let you admit.

"What _isn't_ wrong, Eric?" you feel him stiffen beside you, probably shocked by the tone of your voice. _It needs to be said,_ you psych yourself up. 

"I can't do this anymore," you add. You haven't moved your eyes from the dark screen of his TV, mind farther than where your heart is keeping you tethered. 

"What?" the way his voice breaks with that one question breaks you. You can see in your peripheral that he's staring at you, at your hands, like he's itching to hold it. So you place them under your thighs, afraid that if he holds you, that you would crumble under his touch. You always do. 

"It's not working anymore. It hasn't been working for a time now, don't pretend you didn't notice. We both know you're not stupid," you steel yourself. _Fuck_ , this hurts more than you thought it would. 

Silence, and it was louder than any word he had ever said before. 

\---

The first time you kissed was an accident. Accident because you were drunk and your crush on him already developed into something bigger than yourself. 

You were both at a party thrown by another mutual friend and your friends kept giving you _the look_ as if saying _he's_ ** _right_** **_there_** _, what are you waiting for?_ You didn't know, divine intervention, maybe? So you drank, a lot, just so your mouth was doing something other than smiling at him like an idiot. It wasn't like he noticed, being the social butterfly that he is. He was never alone, always engaged in a conversation with someone and you liked this about him, among other things. He was personable and friendly; people just... _flock_ to him, like he's fire and you were all just moths. You then wondered if getting too close would also hurt.

You looked away and found solace in the kitchen after the… was it the 4th bottle? _Perhaps_. You weren't sure at that point. Minutes after locating another bottle, you were still having trouble opening it. (You realized the next morning that you were opening the cap with your bare hands. _Silly._ ) A hand reached out from behind you to take the alcohol from your hands, effectively caging you against the counter. 

"You sure about drinking another one?" the voice inquired, calm and also indulgent like he'd give you the bottle if you wanted him to. It was your choice, either way. 

And you know that voice, how can you not? He could very well be a dying language but you were already fluent in him anyway. 

"Uhm. Yeah," you answered in a small voice because _holy shit,_ Eric Nam is behind you. _Did your friends put him up to this?_

"I can hear you thinking," he said with a chuckle, reaching for the bottle opener you never noticed was there in the first place. 

"Why are you here?"

"You mean at this party?" another chuckle. This man is out to take your breath away, you're sure of it. 

You turned around to face him, so now you're not only caged against the counter but also caged against the counter **and** facing him. _Wrong move, bad._ You can't keep your eyes away from his mouth. 

"You know what I mean. We both know you're not stupid so don't start now." It was the liquid courage that made you say it, you're sure. 

Another chuckle. _Damn_.

"See, this is why I like you, you call me out on my bullshit," he smirked and tilted his head on one side. _Double damn._

You took the opened bottle from him and took a sip. He just said he liked you, but in what context? You didn't dare hope.

"If you must know, I followed you because I got worried. You were taking too long in here. Even the others were wondering what happened to you. Should I tell them you lost against a bottle of beer?" Then he laughed, a full belly laugh that you should've felt insulted by. But you weren't, because his laugh made you think that every heartbreak you have ever felt led you to this moment. Like the universe said _here you go, this is us making it up to you._ Thank you, Universe. Everything felt right, everything felt... _more_. You wanted to preserve this feeling against your better judgment.

So you placed the beer on the counter and leaned forward, you _swear_ you were only aiming for his cheek but your lips landed on his instead. An accident, as chaste and soft as a butterfly's landing. You didn't even get to close your eyes before you reeled back, eyes wide in apology. 

"Oh my goodness, I'm sorry! I swear I was only aiming for your cheek, you were just laughing so adorably and I just… uhm…" in hindsight, you knew you were babbling embarrassingly but Eric was still quiet. His stare made you nervous. Was he mad? 

"I'm really sorry," you squeaked.

"Stop apologizing," he whispered, voice lower than you have ever heard it before. Then he leaned in.

The second time you kissed was deliberate and _it was amazing._

\---

"We've changed, and not for the better." You say to him, after that painful silence. "We drifted further and further apart that some days I don't even remember the sound of your laughter." You can feel the tears coming at this point, but you soldier on. 

"This is not just on you, it is on me too because I felt you slip away from me again and I just… this time I just… I let you." A tear, then. You feel it travel down your cheeks like the first crack of a dam on the verge of breaking. 

He is still silent. You are still pointedly not looking at him. 

"I'm tired, Eric. Of fighting. This isn't the first time we argued over this, and if I stay, I know this won't be the last. I keep fighting and fighting and fighting but what about you? I can't fight against your dream and neither do I want you to. It's not fair for either of us." 

You know you're right. He knows you're right, but why does it feel so wrong?

\---

The first time you fought wasn't pretty. You were already dating for a handful of months when it happened. 

He got mad when you missed a date. It wasn't deliberate, you had deadlines and you even let him know that you weren't going to make it. 

He still got mad. He was at your apartment when you got home (you had keys for each other's apartments at that point, he had a drawer at yours, you had a toothbrush at his.)

He was fuming, sitting on the couch with his tie loosened and his hair awry. Like he's been running his hand through them.

"One night, I wanted one night with you before I leave for tour again." No hi, no hello, this is how he greets you. You let him rant as you remove your heels, you let him rant as you get water, you let him rant as you clench your fist. 

You weren't a jealous girlfriend, you were almost _too_ understanding... because _you do_. You understand his line of work, you understand when he's busy, you understand that he won't have time for you on occasion. _You understand this._ You weren't some naïve little girl when you got into a relationship with a literal celebrity, you understood his responsibilities. 

That's why it hurts. His words may have very well been a knife stuck on your chest from how much it hurt. 

"Are you done?" you said, voice still deceptively level despite the fire burning through you. 

He chuckled, but it sounded dark. Mocking. It _fucking_ hurt. 

"If you are, then leave," you said again, you didn't trust yourself not to burst into tears of frustration. 

"No. We're talking about this." Pushy, as always. A side effect of being as loved as he was was his stubbornness. You always joked that it was also because he is a Scorpio but you don't feel like laughing now. 

"Oh, so you want to talk now?" there was an edge to your voice. Something he must have detected because he was visibly taken aback.

"You don't answer my texts, you don't call me back, we run on different time zones more days in a week than not. Do I fault you for that? I don't, _you asshole_ , because I understand." Your words were dripping blood now, yours or his? Who knows? But it was the beginning of a battle you weren't sure you would survive. 

"And here you are, the one day that you are in town, breathing down my neck for missing one date. One fucking date! I have work, Eric, or is that not important compared to your work? Huh?" 

You saw him flinching at your words. _Good_ , but you weren't done. 

"I never ask you for much. Did you know I'm up for a promotion? No, right? Because when I called you last week you were in practice and you needed to go. You sounded exhausted so I let you go."

"You should've…" he started saying.

"I know what I did and what I should've done. I know, okay? But I already spent so much time putting you first, what's one more?" you laughed incredulously. You were so stupid thinking this way. 

"Honey…" he attempted to talk again.

"Don't you fucking dare call me that. Not right now. Don't make me feel worse than I already am. I've been good, I haven't let this derail me, but you coming here all gungho as if I've wronged you? Well, fuck you, too." You gave your own mocking chuckle. You were fluent in him, after all. 

He looked down, eyes suspiciously shiny. You took a breath. 

"You better leave." you decided. And that's when you saw it. Tears. Eric is crying. And you shouldn't feel bad over this, _he_ did this, it's not your fault you told the truth. 

"Hon–honey, p–please… I– I'm– sorry," he stuttered in between sobs. You stayed where you were standing.

"I'm so sorry I ever made you feel this way. I know that… I… I know. I have no excuse. I'm so sorry. I–I promise I'll be better. Please." You don't know what he's saying please for. Please leave? Please stay? Please listen? Please for the sake of saying please? You knew you were still angry, his tears might have softened the edges of your anger but it was still there. 

He just kept whispering _Honey, please_ at that point. You took another deep breath and walked to the couch. He flinched when you sat beside him. 

"I'm not forgiving you, you hurt me, but I'm not leaving you if that's what you're thinking––" you heard him release a breath, and it sounded like relief. 

"I'm sorry, too. We both are still navigating this relationship and I know I also need to be more honest with you with how I feel. I feel neglected sometimes, yes, but I never want to be selfish."

"You can be, though. Be selfish, I mean. You always called me out on my bullshit, don't stop now." he said, a watery smile on his face. His eyes were puffy, his hair was crazy, and he had snot on his face and still, he managed to be the most breathtaking thing you have ever seen. It was almost unfair. 

"I'm willing to try if you are?" you reached for his hand, anger deflating ever so slowly as you soaked in his warmth. He lifted your clasped hands to give yours a small kiss. 

"I am." and the smile he gave you was blinding. 

Your first fight wasn't pretty, the forgiveness much less, but it was a learning experience in compromise. It was the first and last time you ever fought over this.

Or at least, that's what you thought. 

\---

"I don't want to continue being a burden for you, Eric." 

"But you aren't, I love you," there is pleading in his voice. 

"I know you love me and for the longest time, it's the only thing that kept me going. Every new single, every new album, every new tour, I reminded myself that you loved me, but…"

"But what?" he asks almost defensively, hackles raised.

"But I was always an afterthought…" you smile sadly. "I was always the last to know, I'm not the first person you call anymore. And the fact that it didn't bother me for a long time, not being important to you, is what made me want to give you up."

Silence. His silence was so loud. _Why? Why aren't you fighting back? Not explaining yourself?_

"I have no excuse," he says. And funny enough it was also one of the things you loved about him, he made no excuses when he is at fault. Right now, however, you want to pretend a little longer. Let him tell you that you're wrong, that you aren't an afterthought. _But you are_. **You are**. And the truth is so loud in its simplicity.

\---

The first time either of you said I love you, it was almost as if you had been saying it to each other all your lives. A bit nerve-wracking, sure, but ultimately comfortable on your tongue. 

You stayed over at his place, it was a day off for the two of you and you wanted to be lazy and stay in. You woke up first and you were the big spoon. Or a jetpack, if you will. At that point, waking up beside him had yet to stop feeling like a novelty with how often you two stayed apart. 

You were about to lift your arm from his waist but he grasped it tighter. You couldn't help but smile fondly. Sleepy Eric was _adorable_. 

"Go back to sleep," his sleepy voice though was anything but. 

"I need to start breakfast," you reasoned, but he tightened his hold on you even further, pulling your hand to his chest. You were plastered against him then, your face on the back of his neck. 

You softly blew on his ear, and the sound he made was borderline scandalous. _Oops_ , that wasn't your intention. 

"Let me up, c'mon, I'm hungry," you whined against his neck. He huffed a breath and said in an equally whiny voice, "Fiiine, good morning, honey." You shifted so that you were leaning towards his cheek. "Good morning to you, too, honey," and gave him a quick peck. You felt him smile. 

"Alright, let me up, I'm gonna cook," you whispered against his cheek. 

"Okay… thank you. I love you." It was so simple in its truthfulness. His hold tightened by a fraction, waiting for your reaction. You can feel your heart beating so fast. The arm he's holding tightly against his chest also felt his heartbeat and it was just as fast. You wondered—not for the first time—if this is how music is made. You smiled, lips touching his cheek as you did so, mumbling your response...

"You're welcome, and I love you, too," and you did. _You do_. And it was enough, plenty even. Until it stopped being so. 

\---

He touches your shoulder, a whisper of a touch, but it felt like a loud boom against your skin. It made you look at him. 

"I have no excuse for ever making you feel like an afterthought because you aren't. Not ever had you not been on my mind. Every new love song reeks of your skin. Every album is a love letter if you can believe that. Every new tour is a postcard to send my love from. I look at crowds and look for your face. I sing to you even when you're not there. I see you in everything I do that I forget you are not there," My God, he sounds so earnest. 

"Eric, that sounds like an excuse." 

" _Fuck_ , I know!!! Okay! I know. _Shit,_ " he places the heel of his hand against his left eye. Very rarely do you see him like this, even on his worst days, and pain so tangible rests against your chest for causing this. 

"I can't… I don't… I'm not saying this right. _Fuck_ , why do I get everything right besides when it comes to you?" he's frustrated. You understand the feeling.

You place your hand on his shoulder this time. 

"This is what I mean with me being a burden. I don't like seeing you like this over me, please don't make me," you say so softly that it may have well been a whisper. 

"Honey…"

"I'm not your honey, I don't want to be." He winces. You stop yourself from taking his hand. _You have to do this._

"Don't do this, please." he sounds panicked now, seeing how dismissive you are. 

"I have to,"

"Have to? HAVE TO???" his voice raises almost to a shout. 

"Yes, we can't keep doing this to each other." 

"Do what?"

"Don't be difficult, Eric,"

"I have to be difficult or otherwise you're leaving me," you close your eyes and turn your head away from him. 

"Please, please, _please_ , don't make this anymore difficult."

"No, I'm a Scorpio, remember? And I still don't know what that means but I'm banking on it right now," and his response was so out of place that you couldn't help but laugh. And yes, your laugh might have a slightly deranged quality to it but can they blame you? 

And then he clings, threw himself headfirst, to you. His head pressing against the soft swell of your stomach. 

"Please, _please_ , let me lose everyone else, but _please_ not you. Don't leave me," he whispers against your shirt. Your hands are by your side, ignoring the intense impulse to cradle his head against your chest. 

Your inaction makes Eric lose it. Sobs start wracking his body. Choking and painful sobs. And just like your first fight, he starts repeating _Honey, please_ in between, as if saying this was equivalent to taking in oxygen. _I need you to stay,_ he also says at random. 

Can you do it, though? Can you continue risking your heart? See him come home to you tired to his bones and not being able to do anything about it? Can you continue on like this? Love him so deeply and be hurt just as much? 

He quiets down in your silence, but his grip remains tight as if physically keeping you there. Your shirt remains damp, so you know he was still crying. 

You make up your mind. You card your hand through his hair and your action makes him look into your eyes. 

You take a deep breath and say,

"Eric, I…"


End file.
